


The Quadruple Axel

by TamarElmensdorp



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13409226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamarElmensdorp/pseuds/TamarElmensdorp
Summary: When your world and his come together in some sort of dance on the ice.





	The Quadruple Axel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Snowpremacy 2017 with the prompts: ice skating, hot cocoa, fire

Beneath the overpass next to the skating rink, was where the homeless people sought shelter against the cold winds and the snow that softly fluttered down. They were always the same people, mostly. During the summer they would disperse around the city, but during hockey season they would flock together, warming themselves at the fires they made in old barrels. 

They were a friendly lot, life just hadn’t worked out for them as they had hoped. Sometimes you hung out with them a bit, before or after practice. Lately, though, you tended to hang around inside the rink longer. Most of them would have already left for a night shelter by the time you exited the building.  
Today would be no different. You lingered on the ice a bit longer after practice, pretending to work some more on your shots. When all your teammates had left for the locker room, you cleared the ice, though, and sought out a place in the stands. A place with a good view on the rink, but not too easily seen from there. You most definitely did NOT want to be noticed.

Before you had sat down, you heard the gate to the rink open and the scratching of skates on the ice. You turned around to sit down as quickly as possible. But the bulkiness of your hockey gear made it hard to move smoothly in the cramped stands. Your stick got stuck behind a bench, your helmet dropped to the floor, and you stumbled over the row of seats. It was loud. Especially in the otherwise silent, and echo-y, hall.

“S-s-sorry,” you stammered, your cheeks heating up slightly more than they already were after training.

The person on the ice skated in your direction with a look of concern on his face. The closer he came, the hotter your face got. _Damn, he was so beautiful._ To stop him from coming even closer, you yelled “I’m okay, just a klutz heading to the locker rooms,” at him. He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a small wave before he turned around and moved away from you again. 

You were silently cursing yourself, for now you really HAD to leave and couldn’t watch his training session. And you loved watching him train. It’s what you had been secretly doing for the last few weeks. He was so graceful, and so much passion emanated from him, he always left you mesmerized. _Ah well, there was always tomorrow._

After a hasty retreat from the stands, and a quick shower, you left the Sports Centre. Once outside, though, the rink seemed to pull you back in. You didn’t really want to leave at all. You wanted to watch the beautiful guy practice his jumps and turns, see him swirling around, look at him while he lost himself in his gracious dance on the ice.

“Hey, Chris, long time no see, man”, Kenton called to you.

Kenton was one of the homeless people who regularly hung out near the Sports Centre. He was a sweet, twenty-something guy. You didn’t know his background, - it always felt so weird to ask him why he was living on the streets -, but you chatted with him quite often. The two of you mostly talked about your team, or hockey in general. He had always wanted to play college hockey too, but never even got to do the college part.

“Where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in, like, forever. You’re still in the team, right?”, slight worry sounding through in his last question.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. I’ve just been hanging out longer after practice”, you answered while you shuffled closer to him and the barrel fire. Your hands were buried deep in your pockets, your back hunched.

“Hey?”, again the worry echoing. “Are you okay? You don’t look so happy.”

“Nah, it’s okay. It’s just… it’s this guy, you know? I… I like him, but he is sooooooo far out of my league.”

“Who’s out of your league? Are you kidding me? You’re the captain of SFU, third in the League, and with two plays less than numbers one and two! Nobody is out of your league!”

“Oh, but he is”, you sighed. “He’s so beautiful and graceful. And tiny! I’d break him in two.”

“What? You mean Matt? The figure skating guy who’s training right now? Oh man, he’s just a sweet, shy guy. Nothing to be intimidated by. He IS pretty indeed, though”, he said with a sly smile on his face. 

“So, that’s where you’ve been the past couple of weeks, ey? Sneaking in at his training sessions.” 

A wide grin had appeared on Kenton’s face by now. All you could muster, was another big sigh, scrunching up your face. Kenton, pulled you into a tight hug and slapped you on your shoulder.

“Come on, have some hot cocoa. The guys from Lookout came by just now, and handed us a big jug. To keep us warm until we need to go to the shelter for the night.”

“No, I don’t want to use up your supply. You guys need it more than I do. Thanks for the offer, though. But you said this guy’s name is Matt? You know him?”

So, apparently the figure skating guy was called Matthew Bellamy. He was training for the upcoming Olympics, and he wanted to do some jump or something that no one had ever tried in a competition yet. It was doable, Matt, as he preferred to be called, had told Kenton. Having seen his determination during practice, you had no doubt that he indeed could.

That night you spend hours on your laptop. Googling Matt, you found that he was quite the name in figure skating; already having two World Championships and an Olympic gold medal to his name. This intimidated you. Even though your team had three BCIHL titles to its name, college hockey could not really be compared to a professional level, at least, in your opinion.

The good thing about his high standing was that there were lots of videos of his performances to watch. The close ups left you even more mesmerized than you already were from seeing him skate in real life. He wasn’t just going through a routine. He was totally immersed in the music and dance. Lost in passion.

Lost in passion. Just imagine how that would translate into sex. It wouldn’t be just your average shag, now would it? It would be passionate love making. Total surrender to all the senses, to each other. You HAD to somehow get up the nerve and go meet him in person. Kenton did say he was sweet and shy, you could do that, right? And with hot and intense sex on your mind, you fell in a restless sleep, dreaming about a tiny body entwining with your own.

The next day after practice, resolved in your desire to meet him, instead of sneaking up into the stands, you decided to stay on the ice until he came on and just say hi to him. You choose to work on your speed and hockey stops. And soon you were lost in your own world. The wind rushing past you, the feeling of the ice under your skates, the sound they made when you stopped. This was a big part of why you loved hockey.

Absorbed in your extra training, you hadn’t noticed Matt entering the rink. He was leaning against the boarding, watching you skate, a soft smile forming on his face. On your third passing, he skated backwards passed you, hands reaching out for you. You were so stunned by his sudden appearance that you didn’t notice why he turned to your left, and you smacked into the boarding like if you were in a game.

Matt quickly returned to your side with worry on his face.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you okay?”

Blushing from your clumsiness, but trying to save face, you chuckled.

“I play hockey, I’ve had worse. By the way, I’m Chris. Hi.”

Matt grabbed both your hands and started skating backwards again, leaving you no choice but to skate with him.

“I know”, he said. “I, I’ve been following your team. And I’m Matthew, uhm… Matt.”

Now it was his turn to blush while he turned his face away from you. The two of you kept skating around the rink like this for a while without talking. Sometimes you peeked a glance at his face, other times he glimpsed at you. You hated that you were still wearing your gloves and even your helmet. You pulled one of your hands loose from his grip and took of your helmet, letting it fall to the ice. Then you plucked off your glove with your mouth, also just letting it drop.

Before you could, Matt had already grabbed your, now bare, hand again. His felt warm and soft, and breakable in your big, rough hand. With a sudden and unexpected strong jerk, he pulled your body flush against his. Breathless, you looked down into his eyes. _Blue. They were so blue._ Without noticing it, you licked your lips. Matt, however did notice it, and moved his lips closer to yours.

“M-may I…,” he started to whisper. “May I kiss you?”, his pupils wide when he looked up to your eyes again.

You gulped. It felt as if you were frozen in time. How was it possible that this beautiful, frail person wanted to kiss you? You... all big and bulky? All you could manage was a small nod, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. Your eyes fell closed, a breath escaped from your mouth.

He let go of your hands. Only to plant them firmly on the small of your back. He pulled you even closer to his body. One of his hands sneaked under your shirt. Sadly enough, your undershirt was tightly tucked in, so it didn’t find any bare skin. His hand felt hot on your back, yet a shiver ran through you.

It shook you from your reverie, and you realised that you were just standing there, arms hanging down loose from your shoulders. Slowly and carefully, you put one hand on his hip, while the other travelled up to his face, not touching him yet, though. You pulled back from the kiss and studied his face. His eyes, so blue, pupils wide and deep, pulling you in. His cheekbones, so sharp, yet his skin looked so soft. His nose, a bit crooked, but begging to be kissed. 

Finally you looked at his mouth, lips thin, slightly parted. Your scrutinizing made him nervous, you noticed when he anxiously wet his lips. He was still looking you in the eye, though. His nerves made his heart beat faster. You felt it against your chest. Beating. Beating. Beating faster. He was struggling not to look away from you.  
Softly, you laid your hand on his cheek. Thumb lightly brushing his lips, his oh so soft lips. Then your grip on his face intensified, and with a need you had never felt before, your lips crashed into his. Briefly, you worried if you were too obtrusive, too forceful. But then you felt his tongue against your lips. Hot and wet. It pushed itself passed your lips, forcing your mouth open, and entering it, searching for your tongue to dance with.

Lost in time, space…, in a kiss. It felt like an eternity had passed, yet time stood still. Like the world expanded exponentially, yet just the two of you were in in it. A kiss, so hot and passionate, it made you forget everything, yet is was all there is.

Suddenly the sound of a Zamboni ripped through the mirage, hauled you from the dream and landed you both firmly on your feet again. With a cough and a blush, you pulled apart. _A Zamboni on the ice?_

“Hey guys, can you clear the ice, please. I’d like to go home soon and the ice has to be ready for tomorrow’s game,” a big guy on the machine called out to them.

“Why are they resurfacing the ice? Don't you still have a training to do?”, you asked Matt, with a frown on your face.

He started to blush and looked away. Scratching nervously behind his ear.

“Uhm, I eh, I- I have the, eh, night off on Saturdays. I- I was just, uhm, just here to- to w-watch y-you.”

 _To watch me? ME?_ Now it was your turn to blush, your actions mirroring his unconsciously. Matt looked up at you through his fringe, turning his eyes down the minute he caught yours.

“Oi, fellows, any time now would be nice! I really want to go home.”

Matt quickly grabbed your hand and started to pull you to the exit. You were too stunned to do anything, and just followed him.

“Yeah, uhm, sorry. We’re going,” Matt called out to the guy.

With a little hop and a twirl, only a figure skater could make so graciously, Matt reached the gate and pulled you off the ice with him. A soft giggle followed. And a squeeze in your hand.

“Come, let’s have some hot cocoa.”


End file.
